Letters to an Angel
by halliwelldream
Summary: From Patty to Sam, nine months of hope and heartbreak.
1. November, 1976 to January, 1977

Ah, I've missed writing for _Charmed_. I started this fic a little more than a year ago and am now finally getting around to filling in the rest and polishing it up. It'll be posted in four chapters, most of them relatively short (at least in comparison to my usual chapter lengths). The fic actually spans ten months-the summary goes with nine months so it doesn't seem like I randomly picked some period in Patty and Sam's relationship. Well, I hope. Anyway, happy reading and as always, reviews and constructive criticism is always appreciated.

**Spoilers: **No particular episodes. Inspired by "P3 H2O" (2x08) and set before the show's first season so this fic is based off tidbits from the show over the years.**  
Disclaimer: **_Charmed_ is owned by Spelling Television and everyone else who made the show as amazing as it has been. I'm just a fan having lots of fun.**  
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**AN:** Sam's letters fall between, of course, and usually meetings between the two (in case anyone wonders about the tonal/topic gaps and the intermittence of the letters)  
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**_November 1976_**

Dear Sam,

I wonder where you are and why you have stayed away for so long. Do you, perhaps, sense that trouble is brewing in San Francisco? I know that you must be busy with your charges and that we will always have to put our duties above us but I wish you were here, with me. Please, Sam, we need to talk. You know I wouldn't ask if it were not important.

Love,  
Patty

_o_

Dear Sam,

You must forgive my mother her strength. I cannot promise that she harbors no ill will towards you, but I promise you that however she must come across as to you, she means the baby no harm.

She is right, though, you know. How long I have spent wishing she wasn't, but she is, at least in part. This isn't something we can simply hide as we've done with everything else. For nine months, perhaps, we could keep this secret to ourselves, but when she begins to come into her powers, there will be too many things out of our control. We must make a difficult choice and I don't know what it will be, but I expect we will not like it. I wish, desperately, to be wrong, but I am not.

I wonder sometimes if this life and its difficult choices are all a dream. It seems so impossible that we should have such happiness so short a time ago and then such unfair choices lying before us now. Oh, Sam. If you were not in this with me, I think I would burst from it all.

Love,  
Patty

**_December 1976_**

Dear Sam,

Don't think me cold for reacting the way I did. In your absence, my mother has had much to say to me and already I feel the weight of what we will have to bear. I want this baby and all the things we've talked about, I do. And though we've pretended before that we could have all that, I know it's a life that will never be ours and that things will never be that easy for us. We can't ever escape the rules and we can't ever forget them. They haunt me, always, since I've found out about the pregnancy.

But maybe you're right to be finding joy in this. Maybe for a little while, we could pretend we're normal. The holidays are coming soon and if you are in San Francisco, I want so much for us to have a few days together and to help each other forget that this was never supposed to happen before we must talk about what we are going to do.

Love,  
Patty

**_January 1977_**

Dear Sam,

I'm sorry you missed New Year's. You said you had charges who needed you, but I know it was because of Victor. I forgive Victor for his leaving. How could I not when he has already borne so much? When he did his best by me and the girls and I have never believed that he made any easy choices? However much Mother clucks and shakes her head, I would never keep the girls from him, but he is my past and you, _us_, are my future. Our struggle is the one I commit to now. I know that in an instant, things could go very badly for us, but I love you and I believe in us, and I accept the risks.

I love her so much, this child I carry in my belly, as much as any of my girls, and it terrifies me. What am I do with this love when she is gone? Where is it to overflow? Sometimes, I wish you would convince me that it would be alright to keep her. Sometimes I think we will keep her anyway because we will love her too much.

Do you ever wonder what we are doing, Sam? Can you tell anymore what is right and what is easy? Are we selfish to want to consider keeping her even though we know she will never have an ideal life with us?

Love,  
Patty

_o_

Dear Sam,

Please don't worry so much about the baby and me. I went to the doctor's yesterday and we are both healthy. This is no different than my other pregnancies. Everything is as it should be.

I know you feel you should be here, taking care of me, but your other charges need you and I can't ask you to abandon them. We will always be more than Whitelighter and charge, but more than ever now you must pretend I'm no different than any of your other charges. I have Mother and my girls. They take good care of me and keep my mind off things that are hard to think about.

Love,  
Patty


	2. February, 1977 to April, 1977

Meant to get this chapter up earlier, but writing it was a bit trickier than I anticipated. I'm a bit iffy on Patty's characterization here, so let me know what you guys think. Thanks, and happy reading!

**Spoilers: **No particular episodes. Inspired by "P3 H2O" (2x08) and set before the show's first season so this fic is based off tidbits from the show over the years.**  
Disclaimer: **_Charmed_ is owned by Spelling Television and everyone else who made the show as amazing as it has been. I'm just a fan having lots of fun.  
**

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**_February 1977_**

Dear Sam,

I know we agreed time apart would be best for our current situation but still I ache for your arms and your warmth around me. Sleep comes to me uneasily and I wonder if it is the same for you. No breath I take is deep enough to restore in me lasting calm. As long as I carry this child, I cannot rest easy. In my mind, she is like thin glass, so delicate and beautiful to behold, but so terribly fragile.

My dreams are filled with you and the baby, and always, I dream of losing you or her or both of you. Sometimes, I dream of losing much more—Mom, my girls, everything I have ever cherished. Always I wake from these nightmares thinking that we couldn't do it after all and that everything is not alright.

It is so hard not to call for you when I know one word is all it takes to bring you back to me. I know I must be strong to do what we will have to do, but oh how I wish things were different. You have always counseled me to have caution and prudence and I beg of you the same. Be safe so that you can return to me when we judge the time right.

Love,  
Patty

_o_

Dear Sam,

I thank you for the strength you lend me and I am glad you remain yourself. Daily, I am plagued by so many silly little fears that I feel swallowed by them and I do not think I shall come away from this as I was. I look in the mirror and smile and pretend cheeriness but I am not the glowing woman I was during my other pregnancies. Mom shrugged at this and told me I would come out the better for it. She was not being unkind, but the sentiment is too much like her and I do not like it. I do not like thinking that in imitating her strength, I am taking on her attitudes too.

For all her stern words and tough heart, Mom is tense and worried too—you know how she is. She thinks They could come down at any moment and claim the baby, or worse, kill her. I'm afraid too, Sam. Afraid she is right. Afraid we will not be able to protect her quickly enough. I close my eyes and hear you telling me I'm being silly and that we've talked so much about this that of course it'll be alright, but fear is such a strange thing.

We've come to the hard part of this. The bump on my belly reminds me that this will not be a secret easily kept, but it is also heartening. For the sake of our little girl, we must do this right. Whatever sorrows we shall come to face with her shall be by our choice and no other.

Love,  
Patty

_o_

Dear Sam,

I miss you, of course I miss you. I could not forget you so easily. Your kind smile. Your rare laughter. Your quiet strength. Your touch, which all at once soothes me and awakes in me a yearning for all the things we are denied and try for anyway.

Dearest Sam, you remain in my heart, you reside there, but my mind is clear and my resolve firm. Though I wish it too, we cannot see each other. Not yet. I hold your image and your manner in my mind as vividly as I am able, but if you were to appear before me in reality, I am afraid that my clearheadedness would hold steady no longer. I would be ruled overmuch by my emotions and I would be too easily swayed by the desire to pursue impossible courses of actions.

And so, I must tell you no. No, do not come to me and kiss my worries away. We have come together in spite of rules that would tear us apart and now we must endure so we may best them. Let me fret. I shall be fine. We shall be fine. I must believe that.

Love,  
Patty

**_March 1977_**

Dear Sam,

There is no need for forgiveness. I am not angry at you. You were right, of course. Separation seems silly now. Odd even. You are my Whitelighter, after all. But neither can you become too much of a constant or seem to be too invested in this pregnancy. It is hard, I know, and if hearing this hurts you, then I am sorry, but we can't lose each other now. I do not want to bear this without you, however often you are able to be here.

Yes, Prue is feeling much improved. She is up to her old tricks again, keeping tabs on little Phoebe all the time, dragging Piper into her games, and testing her powers on poor Andy. I feel sure she will grow up to be a leader and a heartbreaker and the thought makes me laugh. Piper will be milder, I think, but there is strength in her yet. She will be strong too, Sam, our daughter. With Halliwell blood and yours, that is the gift we give her. She will never know it, but it gladdens me to know she will have something of us after all.

Love,  
Patty

_o_

Dear Sam,

The craziness here grows and I wish I were with you, fighting demons. When I was nine years old trying to write my own spells and mix my own potions, it seemed the grandest thing, but how maddening it seems to me now. Every spell, every potion, reminds me that higher powers conspire against us, and yet, all I can do is passively cloak, conceal, cast illusions. I have thought about the problem a hundred different ways, trying to find the loophole, wishing that the next time I see you, I could tell you that it's alright, there is a way, we can keep her. But I have come up with nothing and the only certainties are the cold, unyielding rules.

Still, I can count on my girls to make me smile and give me a reprieve from days that would otherwise seem too long. They think I'm getting fat and it's the funniest thing in the world to them. This is the third time I've been pregnant since Prue and I am so terrified she will make the connection, but thankfully she is distracted by other things and still experimenting with the role of the big sister that Piper and Phoebe look up to. She is fierce for six and thinks the world easily conquerable. If we could only see the world as she does. I will be sad when my girls grow up and lose that. It is a wonderful feeling, believing the world can throw you no obstacle too great, believing destiny will smile at you at every turn.

Love,  
Patty

**_April 1977_**

Dear Sam,

I can't sleep. The rain keeps me awake. I am soothed already, writing to you, but my heart remains troubled. Perhaps it is passing. Perhaps the day has been too long, but I feel suddenly afraid and I feel the baby kicking as if to mirror my distress. We are not ready for this. We will never be ready for this. I dream her birth again and again, and I cannot imagine her, this miracle growing in my belly, in someone else's arms. What will she think of us? Will she believe we don't love her?

If it were someone else in my shoes, I know what I would think. I know the answers I would give. But still, I cannot quell the storm of my uncontrolled emotions. I wouldn't wish any child of mine hidden away as if she were something to be ashamed of, nor would I wish her to be unaware of her legacy, though it bears with it burdens. And yet, as bright as my determination burns, as desperately as my mind scrambles, I cannot have both desires fulfilled, perhaps not even one. The choice was hardly ours to make. We were left to choose only how to execute it.

It is too easy and too hard a solution to just give her up. Every day she comes closer to coming into this world and every day, our choices settle less and less easily with me.

Love,  
Patty

_o_

Dear Sam,

I hope this letter finds you well. You were so quiet when last we met and parted. It seemed you were brooding though you said you were fine and now that you are gone and I am thinking of you, it nags at me. I worry for you, Sam. Talk to me. Tell me what's wrong, or tell me that it's just anxiety driving you to silence.

If it is my moods infecting you, then I will try harder to be hopeful, but you should know that however I feel in a single moment, I have never doubted us. We will survive this. But I could not believe that if I did not believe you were trying too. We are far too lonely already. Don't shut me out.

Love,  
Patty

_o_

Dear Sam,

Sweet, patient Sam. Truly there are none like us, who create so much joy and sorrow between each other. We have chased our love through heaven and hell and more and this is hard for me to say, but so are many things between us that must be said anyway. Please don't fight me on this. I promise you, this isn't what I want. Many times I have wished our relationship could enjoy a more ordinary course, but I have never wished for you to become mortal. I would never ask it of you.

You have always been a good Whitelighter to me, a good teacher, but I am not your only charge and I will never be. How could I take you away from the world? From the witches that need your protection and guidance? I need you, but so do they and it matters not that none of them will ever need you as much as I do. What we are condemns us, but you would never ask me to stop being a witch and I can't ask you to stop being a Whitelighter. If you clipped your wings, if I let you, the guilt on me would be heavy. And what of you? Wouldn't you miss it? Helping others? The world must come first, as always. We both know that.

I know that neither choice is easy and I am sorry that you have been driven to make it, but Sam, our trials as witch and mortal would be no less than they are now. I have lived it before, watched my marriage break from it. You will argue that we will be different and I will agree, but different does not mean our problems will easier or more readily solved. Think about the baby. Your mortality may not be enough to make it safe for us to keep her. And even if we did, she would still be half Whitelighter and there would be no simple solution for that.

I know you want to prove the rules don't define us and I know you want an out, and I'm sorry, Sam, but I don't think this is it. It is, of course, your choice to make and I'll say no more, but please, Sam, don't choose carelessly. You know that I love you, that whatever you choose, whatever changes between us, that won't change.

Love,  
Patty


	3. May, 1977 to July, 1977

Sorry this update took so long... this chapter was just really hard to get out properly for some reason. Anyway, one more chapter to go after this so hope you guys are enjoying.

**Spoilers: **No particular episodes. Inspired by "P3 H2O" (2x08) and set before the show's first season so this fic is based off tidbits from the show over the years.**  
Disclaimer: **_Charmed_ is owned by Spelling Television and everyone else who made the show as amazing as it has been. I'm just a fan having lots of fun.  
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**_May 1977_**

Dear Sam,

I have been calling but you have not answered. Is it because you ignore my calls or because you can't hear them anymore? Perhaps mortality is more trying than you expected, but They have not assigned me a new Whitelighter, and so I must assume that you have not done it, that you are still my guide. Come back to me, Sam, or send me a sign at least. I imagine the worse—you powerless with no defense, you stranded and alone, you with your memory wiped. What would They not do if provoked?

After all we've been through, I don't want this to come between us. Let's talk this over or let me just be there for you. Please, Sam, don't make me resort to magic. I am healthy and well and so is the baby. We don't need any more from you than you are already giving us… we just miss you.

Last week, the girls discovered that if they sit on my lap long enough, my stomach will "tickle" them. Every night now is a competition to be first on Mommy's lap. Even Mom is charmed. They don't know they are feeling their baby sister moving but still it gives them such pleasure. Come home, Sam, and share this with us. Our time with her grows shorter too fast. We must snatch what moments we can.

Love,  
Patty

_o_

Dear Sam,

You have my forgiveness and my understanding, but still, I feel as if you are eluding me and still, I wonder how you are, what you are. I'm controlling myself though. At least I'm trying to. I've stopped calling. Have you noticed? Can you?

I think your current absence long but I've been doing a lot of thinking and I realized that we have been apart far longer, doing our duties to the world. Is that why our separation now persists? Do They have you watching over others elsewhere? Tell me that they do not suspect anything between us, that they remain clueless about the baby. I must know.

I think I have figured out why the moments we steal are always stolen back from us. We are both too good at what we do—our destinies seem designed to draw us apart. We must both become amateurs again so that I may need more guidance and you may have less charges. We would have grand time, you and I, learning from each other. We always have.

Love,  
Patty

**_June 1977_**

Dear Sam,

Don't be too unhappy with yourself. I'm not disappointed that you couldn't do it. For all we've been through, I think you've been glad to have been what you are. You've had a chance to teach and guide, to continue your life's passion even after death, on a scale far greater than must have seemed imaginable to you at first. And you've taken that chance and you've embraced it, helped so many. With you as my Whitelighter, I've never found my destiny too unbearable. Your wings are a gift, not a curse. It is the rules that are our burdens. We must not let them break us down now. We must be strong for each other.

We threw a party here, at the Manor, the other day to celebrate Piper's birthday. She spent a good amount of time showing off the charm bracelet I had given her that morning, she was so proud of it. I feel so blessed to have girls who are so willing to be pleased, who experience life so joyfully. Thank you for the storybooks. They are delightful and she is not all too old for them. The girls loved them and I think perhaps Piper may have finally gotten a good night's sleep. With everything that has been going on lately, she's been having a tough time. It was a good day for her, for all of us.

Love,  
Patty

_o_

Dear Sam,

You shall soon be in love with an insane woman. Mom watches me with eagle eyes and I feel as if I can barely get up without her asking me if I mean to leave the house or get involved in what could be potentially dangerous magic. Do you think me utterly incapable of maintaining some sort of normalcy simply because I am this far along? Oh, Sam, you will have to save me from boredom before I start making bad decisions.

I've been thinking, though, Sam, that maybe we could name her. Such a small thing, but one day, when she starts asking questions, she'll know we loved her, wanted her. Maybe she'll understand. You know how much I love my girls, how much I love seeing them together. I can't help but think of our little girl joining them. I can't help but think of baby names. I know how this sounds—like I'm getting too attached, like I'm digging myself in too deep, but she's growing inside me and I don't feel detached from this and I can't pretend to. Just a name, Sam, no more. I promise. A name so she will not be a stranger in our memories.

Love,  
Patty

**_July 1977_**

Dear Sam,

Truly you are spoiling me by being here so often. How do you manage it when you have so many charges and one demon a day is enough to keep my hands full? You will not say it, but I have seen it in your face, your actions: it exhausts you, going at this pace. Be at ease, Sam, and focus on your charges. Don't feel you must always be here, with me. Come when you are able. The baby stays put for now, and I promise I will call when it's time. We must not give Them a reason to think They should pay special attention to the Manor.

On the subject of names, you still have not given me an answer. If you think it a bad idea because it will make this harder than it already is, then I understand, but I think there is more to it than that. You seem too worried for it to be just that. I confess I have my own doubts—there are so many reasons that perhaps this is not the best of ideas. Perhaps we worry for the same reasons.

Love,  
Patty

_o_

Dear Sam,

She is coming soon, I feel it. Are we really going to be able to do it? Give her up? I think of her in the system and my heart breaks. I feel so woefully unprepared, so crept up on. I should know how hard this will be—I have had three beautiful girls. I look within myself, searching, and I wonder where I will find the strength to do this.

If we were a normal couple I would tell you, let's run away. But if They don't figure us out first, Mom will, and I can't give up my girls nor could I drag them into this. Yet still I am unwilling to believe that we have already settled on the only practical solution. There is still time and I must still wonder if there is another way.

Love,  
Patty


	4. August, 1977

To **Piper Chris Melinda Halliwell** and **Vampire Reader**, thank you for your kind comments. Story wraps up here and I know I've been awfully slow so thanks to everyone who came along for the ride.

**Spoilers: **No particular episodes. Inspired by "P3 H2O" (2x08) and set before the show's first season so this fic is based off tidbits from the show over the years.**  
Disclaimer: **_Charmed_ is owned by Spelling Television and everyone else who made the show as amazing as it has been. I'm just a fan having lots of fun.

**AN: **These letters are set after Paige's birth (August 2, 1977)

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**_August 1977_**

Dear Sam,

I think of her all the time. Where she is, how she's doing, whether she's loved. So many times I've almost run back to the church, wanting to talk to the good Sister. I know I mustn't, but Sam, it is so hard not to care. And I wonder—is it the same for you?

Are you haunted by her face as I am? I will never forget what it felt like to hold her and just look at her. Do you know that I wished for her to be less healthy, less strong, so that perhaps we could keep her awhile and teach her strength?

Sometimes I think our giving her up was all a dream. I've been waking from sleep much too soon and much too often lately and every time I imagine I hear her crying and wailing for us. But then I reach for the baby monitor and there is none, and I know that I have let myself confuse dream and reality again.

I fear it'll never get easier. The girls are good at distracting me but seeing the three of them together, so happy and beautiful, makes me sad. This is how it should be for her. She is a stranger to us already and it hardly seems fair not to have her and to have more time.

Love,  
Patty

_o_

Dear Sam,

I know I should try to talk less of her and more of other things, but as I look at my girls, at the life we've built, and I write, she fills my heart and my thoughts. What else is there to say between us? What storm have we not already weathered? I miss her, Sam, and you. I miss the days when I looked into your face and my thoughts were happy and hopeful. How has it come to this, all sorrow between us?

Mom is sympathetic but impatient. The way she looks at me, the way her tone sometimes changes, I think she must be remembering her own past sadness. Dad, perhaps, and being pregnant with me. But those moments are fleeting and she is always soon talking about demons and Innocents again and trying to get me to the attic, to the Book of Shadows. And I know I should feel lucky because I am not alone and I have not lost you and I've not been forced to toughen up as quickly as I can, but instead, I am angry that destiny demands so much greatness from us and takes from us the things we are fighting for. I'm not yet ready to leave my girls. I need a few more moments with them, a few more moments to bask in their sweetness. And still there does not seem time enough to mend this emptiness in my heart.

They are so fierce already, my girls. Soon they will not need me to fend off the shadows in the closet, the demons under the bed. It will be hard, letting them go when the time comes. I have lost too much already and I know that destiny and heritage will not be easy for them either. I hope, only, that destiny will never be this cruel to them and that they will know enough good to help them bear the bad.

Love,  
Patty

_o_

Dear Sam,

We needn't have worried so much about Cedric and what he was capable of. He was no high-level demon after all, just a low-level shapeshifter with grand ambitions, and the vanquish was no trouble. Mom didn't seem too surprised—I suspect she may have known and wanted me to figure it out for myself. Well! She has me chasing Grimlocks next which seems almost too simple compared to figuring Cedric out. It's been nice stepping out of the house with nothing to hide and no spells to keep track of. I forgot how satisfying it is to just walk down the street or watch a demon go up in flames. These past months have been too much trial by magic. What a relief it has been, finally being able to find the balance between the magical and the normal in my life again.

I sat outside the church again today and watched people flow in and out, trying to read their faces. I wonder if any of them will go home to a newborn tonight, to her, and look into her face and think they are blessed and God has smiled on them. It must not sound that way to you, but it's been good for me, sitting on the steps with my thoughts. The urge to run in and find Sister Agnes is less now. One day I will want to see for myself that she is happy and loved but today is too soon and it wouldn't be fair to her new family. For now, it's enough knowing Sister Agnes is a good soul and would have done her best by our little girl. I wish a lot of things could have turned out differently, but I'm glad that she will have a normal childhood and I'm glad that she'll have the truth one day if she wishes it.

Love,  
Patty


End file.
